dollars, draws on him. It's not
an unusual thing. Well, I've been writing to folks in Chicago, and they
tell me Tillotson is in quite a tight place since the upward move in lard.
It appears he has been selling right along for a fall."

Torrance looked thoughtful. "Tillotson is a straight man, but I've had a
notion he has been financing some of the homestead-boys. He handles all
Larry's dollars?"

Clavering nodded. "He put them into lard. Now, the Brand Company hold
Tillotson's biggest contract, and if it suited them they could break him.
I don't think they want to. Tillotson is a kind of useful man to them."

Torrance brought his fist down on the table. "Well," he said grimly, "we
have a stronger pull than Tillotson. Most of the business in this country
goes to them, and if he thought it worth while, Brand would sell all his
relations up to-morrow. I'll go right through to Chicago and fix the
thing."

Clavering smiled. "If you can manage it, you will cut off Larry's
supplies."

"Then," said Torrance, "I'll start to-morrow. Still, I don't want to leave
the girls here, and it would suit me if you could drive them over to
Allonby's. I don't mind admitting that they have given me a good deal of
anxiety, though they've made things pleasant, too, and I've 'most got
afraid of wondering what Cedar will feel like when they go away."

"Will Miss Torrance go away?"

"She will," said Torrance, with a little sigh, though there was pride in
his eyes, "when the trouble's over--but not before. She came home to see
the old man through."

Clavering seized the opportunity. "Did you ever contemplate the
possibility of Miss Torrance marrying anybody here?"

"I have a notion that there's nobody good enough," Torrance said quickly.

Clavering nodded, though he felt the old man's eyes upon him, and did not
relish the implication. "Still, I fancy the same difficulty would be met
with anywhere else, and that encourages me to ask if you would have any
insuperable objections to myself?"

Torrance looked at him steadily. "I have been expecting this. Once I
thought it was Miss Schuyler; but she does not like you."

"I am sorry," and Clavering wondered whether his host was right, "though,
the latter fact is not of any great moment. I have long had a sincere
respect for Miss Torrance, but I am afraid it would be difficult to tell
you all I think of her."

"The point," said Torrance, somewhat grimly, "is what she thinks of you."

"I do